


A Storm to Weather

by Bonnie Klyde (BonnieKlyde)



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Astraphobia, Comfort, Fluff, Janus Sanders - Freeform, Loceit - Freeform, Logan Sanders - Freeform, M/M, Thunder - Freeform, canonverse, fear of thunder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:48:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28217211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BonnieKlyde/pseuds/Bonnie%20Klyde
Summary: An unanticipated thunderstorm leaves Logan shaken for reasons he is not quite willing to admit.
Relationships: Deceit | Janus Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	A Storm to Weather

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends and fellow fanders!
> 
> Content warnings: Astraphobia (fear of thunder). Let me know if there are any I missed! 
> 
> Find me on tumblr @BonnieBelleKlyde; let’s be friends!

Logan made a point of checking the weather every morning. It was simple enough—there was a function on his watch that told him everything he needed to know in a matter of seconds. It was for purely functional purposes, of course. Thomas relied on Logan for nearly every practical detail of his life. Logan checked the weather every day so that he could plan accordingly. He could relay information about appropriate foot and outerwear to Roman before the creative side took over in terms of…what was it, fashion? He knew when sunscreen might be required and how strong that sunscreen should be. He knew whether Thomas should take an umbrella with him when he left the house. He knew when extra layers of clothing might be wise. He knew what he needed to in order to effectively carry out his function.

For that reason, and for that reason alone, Logan was…unnerved…on this particular evening when his watch had failed him completely. There had been no warning—not even the slightest mention of _rain_ , let alone the gargantuan thunderstorm that was now raging outside. Outside, where Thomas was standing in the middle of the sidewalk without a raincoat, umbrella or proper footwear, over a mile from home.

Logan had thought the day’s activities had finished—had kept only a casual eye on Thomas’s walk home and focused more on the book he was reading than on what was happening outside the mind. He had curled up in an armchair by the fireplace in the living room, content to spend the remainder of his waking hours there when a crash of thunder caused him to jump so violently he nearly fell to floor, and a faint yelp escaped his throat. He cursed under his breath and steadfastly ignored his trembling fingers as they fumbled with the corner of the page he’d meant to turn. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, willing his pulse to slow to a normal pace. A fruitless endeavor, as the next thunderclap set it racing again.

He had failed in his responsibilities to Thomas—that was why he was in such distress. Thomas was caught in what must have been heavy rain in this godforsaken thunderstorm, and he was thoroughly unprepared. Logan trembled like a leaf because the unpredictability of the weather had gotten in the way of his job. There could be no other logical reason. There _was_ no other reason.

It would have been far easier to go on believing as much if deceit himself did not suddenly enter the room. Janus rose up directly in front of Logan’s armchair, an eyebrow quirked in curiosity. The deceitful side regarded him silently for a moment, and it did not escape Logan’s notice that the other’s eyes lingered on his shaking hands.

“Interesting,” Janus said so softly that Logan surmised he meant to speak only to himself.

“What?” he asked regardless, his own curiosity winning out over politeness. “What’s interesting?”

“That you’re alone.”

Logan cocked his head to one side in confusion over that. “There’s nothing interesting in my being alone—it happens often enough, even intentionally. Roman has gone so far as to accuse me of being a recluse.”

Janus chuckled softly and shook his head.

“Not in general. Now. It’s not very often that I’m involuntarily summoned by any of you anymore, and I can’t remember the last time one of you did so all on your own. You must be telling yourself some rather impressive lies to drag me out of bed.”

Logan bit his lip, unsure how he felt at having been caught out. 

“My apologies,” he said, only slightly mortified as he felt a warmth rise to his cheeks. “I’ll return my focus to my book; that should ward off any thoughts that might disturb you.”

Janus tutted softly with a small grin. “Oh, come now, you’ve woken me up, and now you won’t even tell me what for?”

It was just Logan’s luck that, at that precise moment, another crash of thunder sounded, eliciting a small whimper from the logical side—quiet, but not so quiet that Janus would not have heard it. Janus glanced from Logan to the window and back again, his brow furrowed in confusion before realization apparently dawned on him and his expression softened.

“Thomas is walking home in the storm without any shield from the rain,” Logan offered weakly, desperate to provide an excuse less pathetic than the truth. “It is my job to prepare him for these things, but the weather forecast was incorrect this morning. I am only upset because I had not thought to check it any other point in the day, and now Thomas’s health and safety are at risk.”

“Falsehood.”

The word that Logan had spoken countless times before sounded odd coming from Janus. Odd…but not unpleasant. Janus’s eyes and voice both were kind and gentle as he spoke.

“Thomas is waiting out the storm from the convenience store he found not five minutes after rain started,” the deceitful side continued. “He is perfectly fine, and as diligent as you are, there is no way you hadn’t noticed.”

Logan was silent at Janus’s words, not knowing what to say and not willing to admit the truth. It was a silly, childish, illogical thing—to fear thunder. There was no _reason_ for it. There was absolutely no way for the storm—which after all was occurring in a reality in which Logan did not even _exist_ —to hurt him. Logan knew this.

And yet when the thunder roared again, the knowledge did nothing whatsoever to prevent him from nearly jumping out of his skin.

Janus studied him for a few moments before nodding as if he had come to some kind of decision. Janus then seated himself on the couch across from Logan’s chair and patted lightly at the spot next to him, evidently gesturing for Logan to sit next to him.

“Well, I’m awake now in any regard. You may as well entertain me.”

Logan smirked tentatively at that, grateful that Janus had decided not to push the subject further, and perhaps even more grateful that Janus had decided to stay. He stood on frustratingly shaking legs and barely managed to stay upright for the three strides it took him to reach the couch. He sat down beside Janus and stared at the now closed book in his lap to avoid eye contact in his embarrassment. If Janus noticed said embarrassment, he made no comment about it.

“What are you reading?” he asked instead.

“A Study in—” Logan jumped again at the sound of another godforsaken thunderclap. “A Study in Scarlet.”

Was it still the thunder that was causing Logan’s heart to race at such an alarming pace, or was it the unexpected feeling of Janus’s arm draped over his shoulders? More than likely, it was a combination of the two. Out of the corner of Logan’s eye, he saw that Janus now had a small, peculiar sort of smile on his face. The deceitful side gave no other sign that he noticed Logan’s ridiculous fear—he only gave Logan’s shoulder a light squeeze and hummed in acknowledgment of what he’d said.

“Mmm, Sherlock Holmes again. Back at the beginning now, are you? What is that, the fifth time you’ve read them all?”

“The seventeenth,” Logan admitted a bit sheepishly, but when Janus laughed the sound was more fond than mocking.

“The seventeenth. Of course. One would think you’d have them memorized by now.”

The truth of the matter was that Logan essentially _did_ have them memorized by now. He absently stroked the spine of the book and shrugged.

“They’re…a comfort, I suppose.”

Janus made a noise that Logan couldn’t quite place. He glanced at the other’s face only to see that odd, gentle smile there once again.

“Read it to me?” Janus requested in a low voice that was almost a whisper.

Logan smiled in spite of himself, privately thrilled at the prospect of reading one of his favorite stories out loud to a captive audience. It was so very difficult to be heard these days. He nodded and cleared his throat before starting to read.

Janus was an ideal audience for this endeavor, Logan found himself thinking. The deceitful side was fully attentive and engaged and…warm. Admittedly, that last characteristic was not strictly necessary for an audience to have, but it was…nice…all the same.

Logan was jolted from his thoughts each time the thunder sounded, and each time, Janus would inch a bit closer and, without prompting, gently remove the book from Logan’s hands and take over reading until Logan had calmed himself enough to take it back. After roughly two hours of this, Logan made a conscious decision not to take the book back from Janus, instead electing to lie down with his head in the other’s lap, letting Janus’s voice wash over him as his eyes drifted closed.

In the morning, Logan would wake with his head still resting in Janus’s lap and an ungloved hand tangled in his hair. He would wake with a peculiar feeling in his chest and an irresistible urge to reach for another hand to hold gently in his own. Logan would wake feeling perfectly content, the roar of thunder quite far from his mind indeed.

In fact, there was a small, irrational part of Logan that was rather looking forward to the next storm. As it had turned out, they were not altogether impossible to weather.


End file.
